Ghostly encounters in Majorca

My ancient finca, a country house sitting amidst orchards, fields and olive groves at the end of a rural track, is hardly the stuff of nightmares and would never feature convincingly on the set of a Hammer House of Horror production. All the same shortly after my husband, son and I moved into the house, a very strange thing happened.

Beware things that go bump in the night in Majorca!

Our son, just five years old at the time, came down to breakfast one morning and breezily mentioned that an old man in a long black dress had been to visit him and had sat in a chair before apparently flouncing off via the bedroom window. Rather than accuse him of fibbing, hallucinating, losing his marbles (delete as appropriate) we gave one of those typically lame and lazy adult responses of ‘Oh really, darling? How lovely!’ He would often tell us about the benign, white haired pensioner who popped by of an evening and we all indulged him – and indeed the imaginary old man – until an elderly neighbour at the end of the track mentioned en passant that a priest had once lived in our house. A priest? A man in a long black dress, perchance?

Old Margalida explained that our son’s bedroom was once an entrance hall and parlour and that the window was formerly a front door that led to the local parish church. Suddenly the phantom oldie no longer seemed quite so homely. Did that mean, oh no, that we had a ghost? The old man continued to visit until our son turned seven when inexplicably he disappeared and never came back again.

I was reminded of that time when talking to a Majorcan builder friend who claimed that an old house in our valley was so haunted that he’d refused to work there. He told me that while carrying out repairs in the kitchen, plates would move, windows open and chairs crash to the ground. He said that on one occasion while fetching a ladder from his van he returned to find his tools scattered about the kitchen floor.

Meanwhile a British chum told me the most hair-raising story of all. She had been lent a solitary Majorcan finca for a few weeks by a German friend and was looking forward to having some peace and quiet to develop some writing projects but from day one odd things began to happen. She awoke to hear children’s laughter and whispered conversations in the corridor and in the adjoining bedroom, doors banging, lights not working and worst by my reckoning, a strange high pitched whistle that stopped when she emerged from her bedroom and moved towards the sound. She is a hardy, non fanciful soul so at first thought it was her imagination but finally after finding her bathroom door locked from the inside, literally gave up the ghost, and fled.

Of course, if it’s to be believed, ghosts are two a penny in Majorca. Bellver Castle with its singular circular design, was built in the 14th-century as a Royal residence but later served as a military fortress and prison. Rumour has it that the ghosts of tortured souls run amok in the place at night, as apparently does the ruthless Count of Santa Maria de Formiguera known as Comte Mal, the Bad Count, at the Galatzo nature reserve. The ancient Misercordia building in Palma, now a public office, served in its time as a hospice for underprivileged children, hospital and asylum. Many workers have reported strange goings-on, children walking with nuns through the courtyard, the sound of high pitched whistles and lights switching off at night.

Mind you spookier activity has been reported at the Misercordia in Valencia such as a crying child appearing at a window and the sound of loud screams and cries echoing through the ghostly building at night so much so that some security guards allegedly refuse to work there. With so much purported paranormal activity going on, I suppose the best bet would be to appease the spooks by only hiring a skeleton staff.

Anna Nicholas is an award winning blogger and the author of five humorous books about living in rural Majorca. Find out more about Anna Nicholas here or follow her on Twitter @MajorcanPearls